


The Echoes of History

by TomRainey



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:08:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23169835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TomRainey/pseuds/TomRainey
Summary: Jorah Mormont is the chief-librarian at King's Landing University for nearly ten years. He is not proud of the path that took him into this position, though. Tired and wounded by his past, he learns how to believe and build a better future once again as he meets with the most incredible woman he has ever met in his life.Daenerys Targaryen.
Relationships: Jorah Mormont/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 18
Kudos: 22





	1. I - Jorah Mormont

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is, my first ever Jorleesi fanfic. 
> 
> I do not own anything related to ASOIF/GOT.

I.

**JORAH MORMONT**

* * *

**_HIS MUG OF_ ** coffee was already all cold and sad. It was nearly ten in the morning and the library of the King’s Landing University was as calm as a spring breeze. Jorah Mormont was not the kind of man that would get caught by daily-basis problems — at least, he used not to be — but this morning had taken him down in a way no other day had in the last several months. 

His pale blue eyes searched around the area, trying to find something attractive to the sight. Anything would help for he was too damn tired and lazy. Well, it was not like he couldn’t feel the antacids he took earlier finally working in his stomach; for a man who had spent his last ten years, partly as a researcher, but mostly as a librarian, he was pretty much a shame to everybody around him either inside the university or else.  _ I’m never gonna drink like that again _ , he told himself once more.  _ I swear to the Old Gods and whatever other gods and goddesses are out there _ . 

He forced himself to drink up all the remaining coffee, giving whoever passed in front of him a disgusted face —  _ Sweet Mother, shit is bitter as hell _ , the coffee and antacid dancing like crazy dogs inside him. 

It was supposed to be a calm day; well, in the last couple of weeks, King’s Landing was the supreme concept of peace and quiet. It created the perfect ambient and atmosphere to cool down, leave the library by the early hours, walk by the shore, visit the recently restored Sept of Baelor. Those huge walls and its grandiosity — in fact, Jorah hated all of that. But he visited it anyway, after a couple of colleagues from his departament got enough into his nerves. 

Well, it all looked like golden-made, even the destroyed throne. He couldn’t help thinking about the remnants of the idiocy that monarchy used to be being shown to the world once more — because,  _ yeah _ , they needed to restore everything and paint every single inch of the place in golds, reds and aristocratic blues.

Usually taken to the Sept by his parents, as a child, he could easily remember the grey and brown tones; “ _ the decadence of a dynasty” _ , Jeor would tell him. “ _ Families fighting for their pride, honour and power. It happened almost a thousand years ago. A lot of things changed, you see? These families are inside the governments now. They are, still, the ones to control everything _ ”. Jorah would love listening to the stories his father so vividly told him. His mother always by their side, adding rich and striking details to the narrative. He was told part of his ancestors were a piece of these outstanding historic drama. 

Well, they kinda did, in a way, but much near to current time. His mother was one of the first in the north to organize the Women’s March —  the movement was a response to the authoritarian government established at the time. Back then, while his mother and the women from Bear Island — and, later, from Winterfell to the Riverlands — established the very beginning of an striking social organization, leadered by (and only by) women —, there was an opposite group acting in the complete different direction, composed mostly by militars. The people — predominantly men — would request from the government “strict moral guidelines”, imposed to Westeros population. Obviously founded as an answer to Joana Mormont’s movement, its requests were turned to the “old and gold days”, where “women would stay home, take care of their children and obey their husbands”; he could almost hear his mother’s voice in its angry ton inside his head, explaining those not-much complex ideas to him. Well, he was only a child back then, but now, he understood a lot. It was nearly forty years ago, he was only ten years old, but these memories would never fade. Because, after those far-right organizations settled themselves inside the government, everything went  _ really down _ .

Two years after the campaigns spread by Joana Mormont — and it could be said the campaigns were very successful, as they got a lot of followers around the country and its voice and requests got much higher and much more listened —, there was a coup. The government was taken down by a dictatorship led by Aerys Targaryen; Jorah could remember that night — it was mid-November, cold and dark; his mother’s whimpers echoing through the walls of their apartment. Joana just  _ couldn’t believe _ . He remembered his father comforting her, but none of his efforts would be enough. She was devastated. 

After that, everything happened  _ so fast _ . As a kid, he felt frightened. Suddenly, they were fugitives and had become political persecuted. His mother would fight for women’s right, and his father would always follow her ideals — the current Jorah couldn’t be prouder. However, that also meant the persecutions would never seize, as Jeor was also a member of the Workers Party and a big target. With his parents in the lines of the leftist movement in the north, their faces would always be in the front pages of newspapers. And then, it happened. 

It was a dense summer day of July. His parents organized a protest in front of the Red Keep, demanding answers to the disappearing of three members of the Party; there was nearly two hundred people with them and, in those dark times, it meant a lot. He wasn’t there — he had stayed in the north —, but he could say most of this day’s memories were written over bloody pages through history course. The act lasted roughly an hour until Aerys troops went down the streets of King’s Landing to contain those  _ immoral, vicious, filthy leftist animals _ . Everything turned into violence, then. In the middle of that civil rights destruction, his mother was caught. He never knew what really happened to her. His father would never tell him. Jeor survived it all, though, but his mother arrest broke the man down. 

As father and son became political exiles, their relationship also sank into darkness. Jorah was very much aware of the motives; he decided to join the military years later, in order to infiltrate the organization and Aerys dictatorship. Jeor never agreed. He never understood — frankly, Jorah could never judge him. Not now, at least. Nonetheless, after that, he completely lost contact with his father. 

Fifteen years later, as an army Captain in the north, he was a man full of regrets. Those awful years were never behind him. His training sessions were something he denied himself — for his own mental health — to remember.  _ So much pain _ . Somehow, he managed to  _ infiltrate _ , somehow. Participated in secret meetings with social movements spokesmen, offering them inside information. Slightly any of them believed on him, but he managed to gain Brandon Stark’s confidence. After that, it took them years until  _ Pyke’s Uprising _ . Thousands of people went to the streets demanding democracy, starting on the Iron Island and spreading across the country. After weeks of protests and heavy repression, Aerys fall finally came, overthrown by Robert Baratheon and his men at the senate. The dictatorship was over.

You couldn’t say Baratheon’s government has been all roses through the years. It started as a renovation, with a hint of the salvation archetype. Jorah caught himself wondering and analysing its construction since day one — Robert’s ideals had become the complete opposite of the reasons why Jorah had supported him in the past. He never really cared about poverty. Never really cared about women’s rights. He wouldn’t give a single damn to social movements after his first term as president, opening Westeros frontiers and public sections to foreign buyers. The economics got better in the first five years, but after the concessions given to the Lannisters, it all went down again. Robert’s not only popularity, but visible populism, were the only things keeping his power. 

During Robert’s government, Jorah forced himself to move away from politics and quit his career at the army. He continued his studies — that had been initialized during his days as a soldier — and got specialized at Library and Archive administration. It didn’t take him too much time to arrange a job at King’s Landing University as the head-researcher of the library departament. 

It was tough days at the university, but the real shit came after Robert’ son — Joffrey Baratheon — took his place, four years ago. 

The motherfucker acted and talked just like the authoritarian shit he was. He doubled the taxes over the country, affecting mostly poor people; cuted education and health fundings in order to pay external debts, rather than decreasing congressmen salaries or taxing the extensive fortunes of CEOs industry. The boy also cut in half fundings to social programs — and they were not even that much. Jorah loved and lived History enough to know these behavior would  _ fuck them all _ . But he was too much old and tired for that. He would alert his student in the summer program, even though he was it would never be enough. But frankly, he didn’t care or believed in change as much as he did in the past.

So he could say his morning bitterness was a result of all those years of repression and regrets. But today was that fateful day that made him remember everything as soon as he woke up. 

_ Twenty nine years _ . It has been twenty nine years since the day he last spoke with his father. He knew Jeor was alive, living in the extreme north, near the Wall. He isolated himself there after he came back from exile. Neither father or son thought about reuniting and bounding again. He understood, though. Jorah himself would have not forgiven a son like him. So, every May 3rd, he would get like this. 

“Mormont?”, suddenly came a low voice, taking him away from his horrific daydream. “Mr. Mormont, right?”.

“ _ Aye _ ”, he said, nearly lost in confusion. “I’m sorry. I was…  _ daydreaming _ ”.

“Oh, that’s okay. So much happening, right? Almost impossible to not get tangled in our minds”, said the woman in front of him. She had particular features; her silver hair was tied up in a bun, its ton contrasting against her violet eyes.  _ Those eyes. _ He had seen it before.

“I guess you’re right”, he answered in a quiet chuckle. 

“I’m here to rent some books. I don’t know the library rules yet, unfortunately. How do I proceed?”.

“I just have to register you in our system. Do you…”, he started, looking at his computer screen. “Do you have your college enrollment?”.

“Oh, I’m sorry, but I’m a new teacher at the campus, part-time teacher, actually”, she laughed.  _ Those lips _ . It was like she was made of pure light. “Sociology department. I’m here to put some minds into thoughtful works!”, she laughed warmly. “Oh, my name is Daenerys”.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you’d start this week. I’ve heard there was new teachers coming, didn’t know it would be this month. I mean, it’s the middle of the semester”, he said in a smile. “Well, then I’ll need your institucional code”. 

“Alright…”, Daenerys took her backpack to the table and searched for something inside the front pocket. She took a paper from there e gave it to him. “I guess it’s this code?”. 

“Yes, it probably is”. 

Jorah typed the number on the library system’ search bar. 

“I guess I found you! Daenerys…”, and then, his blood ran cold.  _ I can’t believe. It can’t be right _ . 

“Is something wrong?”, she asked him, her voice full of worries, as if she was expecting that reaction.

“N-not at all…  _ Miss Targaryen” _ , he suddenly felt ashamed.  _ But… she… she is... _

“Daenerys, please”, she corrected him. “I’d rather you call me Daenerys, if it’s not a problem?”

“No! Not at all”. 

“I know my last name can fright some people. I’m really sorry for that, though”. She sounded  _ so goddamn sincere _ it nearly broke his heart. She gave him a shy smile, taking the note paper from his hand. “I hope… it’s everything okay with my university registry?”.

“Sure! I’m sorry, I-I’m a bit distracted today. Just that”, he apologised and turned back to the computer, his ears flushing red. “You just need to register a password and the library is completely yours. Well, I mean, you can take fifteen books… so the library is  _ partially yours _ , I’m afraid”, he chuckled. 

She laughed and typed her new library password. “So, am I free to go discover this beauty?”, she said in a big smile, setting her gaze upon the bookshelves behind the glass wall that separated the library from the reception. 

“Aye”, he answered in another low laugh. “Free to go,  _ miss _ ”.

“Thank you, Mr. Mormont. You were very kind”, she reached her hand for him, offering a handshake. He took it gladly. 

“Y-you’re welcome. Enjoy!”

She gave him another bright smile and turned to the library.

Jorah stood there, watching her go slowly, staring at the walls and ceiling like she had never seen such things before in her life. 

_ You’re fascinating, Daenerys _ , he contemplated with himself.  _ You’re… fascinating _ . 


	2. Part II - [SPOILER - ILLUSTRATION]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since I didn't have enough time for writing, here it is: a whole new (my very first one!) Jorleesi illustration!
> 
> Hope you folks like it!

"There's no need for help, Mr. Mormont!"  
  
"Nobody survives in this world without help, Miss Targaryen!"

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> This story's background is going to be really political. 
> 
> But don't worry!
> 
> I'm here for this wonderful couple too. 
> 
> What is better than political Jorah and Daenerys, though?


End file.
